Beyond the Labyrinth
by Steahl
Summary: Ch. 12 now up! Jareth get's a shock while Hoggle get's the ladies? What happened before the Labyrinth? Why is Jareth like he is? What was Sarah's life like? Please R
1. Chapter One: Jareth

Disclaimer: Labyrinth is copy righted by a whole hell of a lot of people, none of them are me. I am simply using their characters to further the ends of my reckless imagination. That said, I will commence with the understanding that no one will sue me.

Author's note: This is going to start some time before the movie, several years in fact, with a younger Jareth and a much younger Sarah. You may not recognize the underground realm yet, but that's because Jareth hasn't come into his reign. If the reviews for the first chapter are good, I'll write some more.

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Italicized indicates thought 

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Beyond the Labyrinth

Chapter One

The ball had barely begun and yet all the faces blurred together, forming a laughing, loud mass of glitter and jewels. Elvin eyes, fairy's gossamer wings, stolid dwarves, elegant centaurs, unicorns...the list went on and on...and was boring the young prince to no end. Jareth understood why his father, king of the underworld faerie kingdom, had to be there, but enforcing his presence was unbearable! He would much rather be out in the countryside riding than entertaining the foolish coquettes that were now flocking to him. Yet here prince Jareth stood, stiffly, next to his father in the grand courtyard, smiling politely at each new name, each new title, that paraded by. He stifled a yawn with an elegantly gloved hand and wished to be elsewhere, anywhere, but here.

Behind the prince, a handsome gnome in royal livery stood. He was the princes' companion...and therefore also required to attend. As Jareth yawned, so did young Hoggle. He knew none of the flighty ladies would even glance at him with the prince there, robust teenager that he was. There would be no enjoyment out of the ball for him; he would be waiting on a very bored and irate prince. Sighing, Hoggle shifted his weight from foot to foot and glanced at the clock...it was far to long until the thirteenth hour. 

* * * *

The ball was, as Jareth predicted, a headache. Each woman had tried her wiles on the young prince, and failed miserably. How was he to tell his father that none of the women had caught his eye...again? How could he explain that the glitter and glamour of the myriad balls and fetes simply caused him to revile company of any kind? In truth, being the only child of a mother long dead and too beloved to replace was annoying. His father would lecture him on duty to the realm, would hint at unknown horrors if the bloodline should falter...but he would sigh in the end and arrange another party or ball. It was enough to drive any man mad, much less a royal one. Jareth stalked down the hall towards the family apartments, prepping himself for the argument to come.

Hoggle bowed and scraped before the royal ladies of the court, offering Jareth's apologies for such an abrupt leave taking. _None of these fancies caught his eye eh? _He thought to himself as the lovelies pouted and simpered at him. _What is wrong with the boy? He is surely not addle witted, and he does like the ladies...Why can't he simply choose one and have done with it? _The apologies delivered, he hurried down the hallway after the Jareth, eager to speak with him.

* * * *

Jareth bonelessly collapsed on his divan, letting magical, unseen servants comb out his hair and fuss over him. He much preferred these simple servants to any of the people out in the courtyard. At least they did not chatter at him about inane and boring subjects while ignoring his pointed attempts at leave taking. The door opened and Jareth lifted his head a bit, ready to lash anyone who disturbed him. He relaxed when he realized it was Hoggle. "Come to drag me back into the beast market friend Hoggle?" He called.

"No milord, I was jes wonderin if ye wanted to talk 'bout anythin..." Hoggle let his statement trail off as he saw Jareth's face.

"Talk talk talk, chatter! That is all that was accomplished tonight Hoggle! Not a single intelligent thing was said. Mother moon, how I wish to find just one captivating, intelligent, amusing woman!"

Hoggle hopped up to the divan and started helping Jareth with his boots. "I know milord. Every woman in all Fae seems to be overblown in charms, but lackin in both intelligence and wits. Even your dear mum wasn't much for brains. Why can't ye accept the fact and jes pick one? It's not as if we expect you te love her or nuthin..."

"I know Hoggle, but I just can't be that...shallow."

"But yer father says that if you aren't married by the time he dies then all the powers of Fae will come to you... All of 'em, even the ones meant for a Queen. It'll drive ye mad!"

"I can handle madness Hoggle, if it means I would have the power to find myself a Queen of my choosing...hmmm...perhaps a test of sorts? And you are right, no one in Fae will do, I might have to go above ground. Snatchlings and changelings no longer abound, but I am sure some still hold by the old ways. Hmmm." Jareth stared up at the ceiling, contemplating the future.

Hoggle sighed and finished unlacing Jareth's boots. _The kid is going right insane already...there will be dark times ahead for us all. _"Time for bed milord?"

"In a moment Hoggle. Please bring me a crystal. I would look upon the mortal world and see what it has to offer..."

"As you wish milord."

* * * *

Jareth stared, entranced, at the scenes that moved before his eyes. _Their world is so different from ours, so...uniform. _In the scene, a little girl was sitting outside on a bench; a horrendously hairy dog curled at her feet. She seemed to be reading a book. Intrigued, Jareth changed the view to see over her shoulder. It was an old fairy tale, about the goblin king, which had been the mortal name for the king of the Fae in darker times...it was called "The Labyrinth" Jareth chuckled low in his throat and crowed in delight. "A labyrinth! Yes, it is perfect!" Smiling he stood and prepared for bed.

Hoggle started at Jareth's slightly sinister laughter. _This boy may follow the dark ways of the Fae powers...Gods preserve us._

* * * * * *

So, whatcha think? Good start? Bad start? Intriguing? Boring? Let me know! 


	2. Chapter Two: Sarah

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. I am simply a common peon subverting the glorious characters of said movie. Suing me would do no good, as the only valuable thing I own is my comic collection...which should not be of interest to Labyrinth fans anyway, so I'll stop rambling.

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Chapter Two

Sarah was curled up among the many blankets of her parents bed, happily humming to herself. She rolled over and looked at her mother who was applying her make-up with expert skill. She laughed happily, and her mother sighed. "Sarah, you messed up the bed I just made! When will you learn not to bother me child?"

"I love you mamma!"

"Don't call me that." Sarah's mother turned back to the mirror with a frown and Sarah smiled happily. Her mother was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. She looked just like a princess from a fairy tale! She was so lucky to have a mother like her. Daddy had said that Sarah would grow up to be just as beautiful, but she didn't agree...Momma had said that Sarah's blood was diluted past redemption, that she couldn't hope to come even close to beautiful. Momma would never lie to her, so she believed.

Sarah yearned to stand up next to her mother at the vanity...She wanted so badly to pick up the white brush and reverently stroke her mother's ebony locks...to gently tie bright ribbons in the soft darkness and make her mother smile...to fall and adore her mother like a princess deserved...but she knew that Momma would get angry. She might even yell or lock Sarah out of the room, she didn't want that. So she sat quietly on the bed and watched her mother's every move...from the pearly white brush, to the emerald ribbons, to the ruby lipstick. Sarah sighed happily and wiggled further into the bed.

Momma was going to go see her "Prince" tonight, so she was dressing extra pretty...the sight made Sarah's heart ache. Momma always went out on Thursday, and always told Sarah to be good and not tell Daddy. Then she would smile at Sarah and pat her on the head...Sarah never told. Momma always did strange things...but that was okay, because she was a princess, and princesses, as Momma said, could do whatever they wanted. Sarah hoped that she could be a princess some day.

Momma finished dressing and stood up from her table. She swirled in front of Sarah "What do you think?"

"You look like a princess Momma!"

"Don't call me that Sarah. But your right. And I'm going to a ball tonight with my prince, so don't tell your father." Then came the expected and long awaited pat on the head.

"Of course not Rivkah. Have fun." 

Her mother gave a tight lipped smile and ran her hands down her thighs, smoothing the tight dress "I always do." Then she left.

* * * *

Her Daddy came home while Sarah was cooking dinner. He came in and leaned over her shoulder, smelling the contents of the pot she was stirring. He grinned and whispered in her ear "Smells wonderful love". Sarah shivered...that meant he was in a good mood and wouldn't ignore her. Her hand started to shake on the spoon and some of the soup splashed on her face. It was burning hot and she winced. Her father laughed and licked the soup off her face, then went upstairs to change. Sarah, still shaking, ladled out the soup into two bowls and set the table.

Her father came back down in his robe, and sat down at the table. Sarah sat at the other end, pretending to be part of the chair. It didn't work...it never did. "What did you do today Sarah?"

"I read some more of the book Momma gave me..."

"Those stupid fairy tales?"

"Yes sir"

"That stuff will rot your brain child! It isn't good for you..." He smiled angelically "But you don't know any better do you? You're just six year old girl. It's not your fault your too stupid to know anything but what we tell you, is it?"

"No sir, not my fault." Sarah swallowed the suddenly tasteless soup...it always started like this.

Her Daddy's eyes sparkled "Not your fault at all...in fact...if I cared for you at all, I would teach you better wouldn't I?" 

Sarah hung her head and whispered "Yes you would if you loved me."

"I'll teach you everything you need to know...I'll teach you what's real in life, and what you'll need to survive as a woman. Are you done eating?"

Sarah blinked at the full bowl in front of her "Yes Daddy"

* * * *

Later that evening Sarah sat curled up under her bed with her stuffed teddy, Lancelot. _Someday I'll be a princess, and princes will treat me kindly, and I'll go to ball's and I'll be beautiful_ _and Daddy won't be able to touch me. I'll run away there...to the place in the book. Even if I get lost in the Labyrinth or get eaten by trolls it'll be okay. And Momma will smile at me, cause I'll have powers like a fairy...and I'll marry a prince, and I'll be queen, and I'll have friends...and everything will be okay. You hear me Lancelot? _The black glass eyes of her teddy stared back at her, and for a moment, a deep spark of life showed in their depths.

* * * *

I realize nobody expected this. Bear with me please, I am creating a child here, and I need to make her someone that will turn into a bitter teenager whom life has treated badly and who's only friends are those she imagines. Please put down the pitch forks and wait to see what I do next. Thank you.


	3. Chapter Three: Jareth

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Labyrinth! It was created by far more talented people than me! In light of this fact…do not sue me.**

**Authors note: I apologize to any who were waiting for the next chapter, a great deal of things happened, not the least of which was exams and work. But now here is the next chapter and all is well in the universe!**

**Beyond the Labyrinth**

**Chapter 3: Jarreth**

          Jarreth pored over the musty tomes of history that his tutor presented, entranced.  There was so much that changed from reign to reign! It seemed that the very land of Fey itself echoed the true self of the king! If the king was wise and noble, the land was breathtaking and the people wise and forgiving…if the king was a tyrant…then the land was hostile and the people were battle ready and fierce. And no to mention the Queen's powers! _Why, she can change the very nature of appearances and bodies!!! __I suspect that is the reason today's court is pretty but brainless, they echo my mother! That was a great deal of power to give to anyone much less a brainless twit. His father was asking too much!_

          Hoggle glanced up from across the room where he was studying and pondered…_What has put such a fierce look on my prince's face? What could possible be in those moth eaten tomes that stirs his blood so? Shrugging mentally Hoggle returned to his study of the house accounts, eager to take up the duty when the prince came into his reign._

*   *   *   *   *

          Jarreth read and re-read the books in front of him, eagerly searching for one reference…one admittance…but he couldn't find it. Looking up he spotted his tutor, a doddering old man with a moth eaten pointed cap who none-the-less knew his history. "Melgrin, please tell me why I can't find any reference of the Goblin Kings in here!"

          Melgrin sucked in his breath and turned to face the young prince "You won't find any in there, as far as I know there is only one book that mentions them, and that was stolen many centuries ago."

          "Why?"

          "The Goblin Kings were a disgrace, a terror, a menace to the continued existence of the Fey. The acts of deprivation the committed are to heinous to record! That is why you will find no reference of them."

          Prince Jarreth frowned and chewed his lower lip for a moment "Explain please" he said as he settled into his chair more comfortably.

          "I will try my prince. The Goblin Kings were men taken with Madness…under their reigns, the people twisted into horrendous creatures…twisted stumps of their former selves…but it wasn't just their appearance that changed, it was the personalities as well. Something about the magic involved seemed to draw out the smallest, worst characteristics in a person…hence brave knights became cowards; Gentle mothers became abusive and spiteful and so on. The land itself twisted to mirror the state of the people…great hedges grew and sealed the kingdom off from all other lands. It was during the last Goblin King reign that the book I mentioned was written, it detailed the reign of Exxus, but to most eyes with no royal magic, it was a simple fairy tale. After the Exxus died and his son came into power, the people were restored…but faith in the king was not. Many families of fey blood fled to the upper world were the whims of the king could not find them. I suspect that one of these families took the book with them so as not to forget the reason they fled. Are you satisfied my prince?"

          "Yes Melgrin, you are dismissed for today."

*   *   *   *   *

          As Melgrin left, Hoggle stood up from his corner and approached the prince. The conversation had deeply disturbed him so he came up behind the prince as he was looking out the window. "Jarreth? Are you satisfied about the terrors of our past now? Will you let it rest?"

          Jarreth turned around to face Hoggle…he was smiling.


	4. Chapter Four: Sarah

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, wish I did. I am in no way attempting to detract from the movie. I am not making money on this.  

Note to readers: This story takes place several years before the Sarah actually runs through Jareth's labyrinth.

**Beyond the Labyrinth**

**Chapter four: Sarah**

          Sarah leaned out the window and sighed. It was raining…a great grand-daddy of a storm. She imagined that little storm sprites, with wild white hair and gossamer wings flitted outside her window. Just outside. Just beyond the reach of her little fingers. Close enough to be seen and desired, far enough away to taunt her.  Her fingers grasped at nothing, no diminutive beauties listened to her invitation to play. Sniffling, she leaned back inside and closed the window.

From her now-closed window, Sarah could see across the street to little Megan Winbrough's house. It was all lit up on the inside, gay balloons fought valiantly to stay aloft in the vicious storm. And if she tried really hard she could hear the music of the party that was going on.  She curled herself into a ball on the window seat, hugging Lancelot close. "You know what Lancelot?" She whispered "I didn't want to go to dumb old Megan's birthday anyway! She's snot and she's ugly! I bet she'll be a wicked step mother when she grows up!" As always, Lancelot listened silently to his mistress's pain, and when she subsided into simply crying heartbrokenly into Lancelot's fur a deep fire burned in his eyes. Again, only for a moment…

*   *   *   *   *

Sarah finally sat up and sniffed experimentally. Her nose was clogged something fierce from crying and her eyes felt like old gumballs. Keeping Lancelot hugged fiercely under one arm she fumbled for a tissue. Daddy would be home soon and if she looked like she'd been crying, he'd notice. She stood up and realized she could barely see in her room. It was only early afternoon…she should be able to see something…

A deafening crack of thunder, right over her head made her jump and scream. The storm outside had gotten ten times worse while she wept. Tree branches lashed in the wind, almost as if they struggled to capture the wind in their embrace. Mesmerized, she walked to the window, and let out a startled squeak. 

Right outside the window was a face, no bigger than Sarah's thumb. It had pale grey skin and pointed ears. Wild, white hair whipped around the face as if it, too, would capture the wind. Delicately, the rest of the body landed on the edge of the window. She, for the creature was definitely a girl, placed both her hands on the glass at shoulder level and leaned inward until her breath blew gently on the glass. A small smile played over her features as she saw the little girl with a teddy bear.  She bowed her head, with great reverence, to the small child.  Following the sprite's obeisance was a tremendous blue-white flash of light. The fey creature's face lit with such joy that it brought more tears to Sarah's eye, then; she stepped back from the window and rode the wind.

Sarah remembered to breathe after it left. The last lightning flash left her blind for a moment, so she stumbled backwards to the side of her bed and sat. _She was real! Her mind crowed__ Real as my hand! As real as Lancelot! Sarah was so lost in wonder that she failed to hear the sirens of the fire engines that roared down the street, nor did she hear the screams of all the little girls in party dresses that were now sitting in the rain._

*   *   *   *   *

The front door slammed some time later, snapping Sarah out of her reverie. "SARAH???? SARAH??? ARE YOU HERE????" a voice in the front hall called. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs, headed towards her room. Her father opened the door and saw her, sitting on her bed. "Thank God Sarah! I was worried! You didn't answer the phone!"

"I'm alright Daddy. I'm fine."

"Did you know that the house across the street was struck by lightning?"

"It was?"

"Yes, the little girl there was having a party…most the girls are okay, but the birthday girl…never mind. I was worried; I thought you were at that party…"

"No daddy, I wasn't invited. She didn't like me."

"I see"

Sarah looked up at her father, confused by this strange emotion he was showing. "You really were worried?"

"Yes, I was love. I can't lose my beautiful girl can I?" And he lowered his hand to stroke Sarah's hair "Can't have that."

Sarah recognized the caresses on her back…nothing had truly changed.  She'd hug the magic of the storm tight in her own mind, less it too be taken from her. "I'm fine Daddy, Lancelot and I had fun."

*   *   *   *   *

And that concludes Chapter four. More to come soon, I promise.


	5. Chapter Five: Jareth

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, I technically have no right to use their characters…but I do.  I do nothing harmful or otherwise that may cause concern among those who _do own Labyrinth. Please, and I stress, please, do not attempt to sue me._

**Beyond the Labyrinth**

**Jareth**

Jareth fitfully pulled at his lower lip as he looked out the window of the pleasure boat.  Gentle froth played about the frame of the ship as it plowed through the low waves of the cove. From his room's window, located right at the prow, he could even see, in between waves, the decorative seabirds wheeling in the breeze.  

The birds were something else. Impossibly blue plumage sparkled in the sun, the deep, rich color of flawless sapphire. Gold and magenta feathers stood up from their heads and floated gaily in the wind, almost as if on their own. And to touch off the supposedly breathtaking sight…fairy fire sparked and trailed at the edge of each feather. It should have been beautiful, but it wasn't. It was crass, overblown…and yet another demonstration of Lady Lillian's magical talent. 

Jareth turned from the window and slumped on the bed. Lady Lillian was the problem. She was a prospective bride…and completely atrocious. She was gifted with magic…truly wonderful…in the words of his father's advisors. What she wasn't gifted with beauty, charm, wit, or even a decent amount of modesty.  And she was at least eight years his senior. Yet, here he was, attending a party intended to impress him with glitter and glamour.  "Hoggle? I'm curious…how does the Lady appear to you?"

Hoggle perked his head up from where he was studying an economics book "Come again Lord?"

"How does the Lady Lillian appear to you?"

Hoggle wrinkled his forehead, thinking _Now__ what is he getting at? Does he want me to say she's an ogre to make him feel better? Or do I tell him she's kind and sweet? Oh boy… "The Lady Lillian…is quite beautiful my lord."_

The prince sat up and focused on Hoggle as if he had finally said something interesting "How so?"

Hoggle gulped "She is just beautiful Lord! She has shiny black hair like the night sky…her blue eyes like cornflowers…slim figure…cinnamon skin…and…and…my Lord?  Jareth had collapsed on the bed and was breathing very heavily, deep, wracking breaths of air. "My Lord Jareth?!"

Jareth held up his hand waved Hoggle's worried countenance away. "I'm alright Hoggle. I can't help laughing it's just very…amusing. Is that what you truly see when you look at her?"

Hoggle huffed in righteous indignation "Of course! I wouldn't lie to you Lord!"

"Ah, and that's the rub isn't it? No one else sees her as I do. I believe she has a very strong personal glamour about her…I will have to counter that…" Jareth wandered back to the window to think.

*   *   *   *   *

Lillian looked out over the grove, _no,__ tonight it is a banquet hall, with me at the top of a stair. Must remember that. She glanced around once more with a possessive air, then narrowed her vision to the Prince standing at the foot of the stair. __Tonight is the night! Tonight I conquer the wayward prince… She self consciously smoothed the sheer fabric of her dress. It composed of equal parts glamour and material, so a simple cotton shift looked like a full silk gown. Lillian was quite proud of her ability to fool even the most powerful of the fey with simple glamour. Signaling the band to play, she descended the stairs and began the game._

*   *   *   *   *

Among the gathered throng, full of bright, over-blown color, Jareth, arrayed in his simple black tunic and leggings, stuck out like emerald in sand. His blonde hair was pulled back in a simple braid and his only jewelry was the signet ring of the royal house. He watched Lady Lillian descend the stairs and almost burst out laughing. She was wearing nothing more than a cotton shift! Hardly adequate for a ball…this was going to make the evening so much more amusing. She reached the foot of the stairs and graciously curtsied to Jareth. He bowed back. The band struck up a dance tune, and they danced.

From the moment Jareth touched her hand, he felt…different.  The very air seemed to turn to gauze…it clouded his thinking and his vision. The only solid being in the room was Lillian, clothed in dazzling russet silk, and dancing gracefully in his arms. He couldn't believe what he had thought earlier…surely it had been the work of foul imps that had made him think ill of her…

*   *   *   *   *

Hoggle stood on the edge of the glittering throng, watching the lone pair dance to the music. _Humph! He seems happy enough with her now doesn't he? I wonder how long they're going to dance alone out there? Why doesn't anyone join in? __Maybe I'll just ask one of these court flowers to dance with me…Hoggle turned to the lady next to him, but she was turned away, whispering to a guard. Nonplussed, he turned to his left, and again, the lady was turned away. Apprehensive, Hoggle glanced around the room…he couldn't see a single face. Everyone was turned away. Listening hard, he couldn't even distinguish words among the whispering. __Why is everyone whispering???!!!_

*   *   *   *   *

Jareth didn't know how long he danced. It didn't matter. Lillian was not tired, so neither was he. The room swam in a multi-hued swirl, the music filled his mind…

*   *   *    *   *

Lillian's mind overflowed with triumph _Mine__! I've done it, he's mine! A little more and he'll be proposing…Gently she caressed the back of his neck. __Such a sweet body…_

*   *   *   *   *

Hoggle's head was spinning…more and more the whispering of the crowd was sounding familiar…tantalizingly familiar. It was frustrating! He had the keenest feeling that his prince was in danger, and the whispering was part of it…Hot…it was so hot…if only he could open a window, get a breeze…

Hoggle froze; an icy chill went down his back. Breeze…that was what was so familiar…the whispering sounded like wind in trees. He fell to his knees…and fell into a springy mass of grass. Almost afraid to look Hoggle glanced around. The people were still there, the prince was still dancing. He turned his head, and in the corner of his vision saw a sylvan glade, trees standing around…and the prince dancing with some strange woman.

*   *   *   *   *

Jareth's blood was pounding, he couldn't focus. He stopped the dancing and looked deep into Lillian's Blue…_but aren't they brown?...eyes. He ran his hands up her arms lightly and fell to his knee. He laid a gentle, chaste kiss on her hand and there were suddenly words. Ritualistic words of bonding…_

*   *   *   *   *

"Lady Lillian…"

_Yes, yes!!!_

"I ask you…"

Her hand trembled in anticipation.

"…to humbly accompany me back to my home. And there, to wed me."

"My Lord…ofcour"

"STOP MY LORD STOP! SHE HAS DECIEVED YOU!" Hoggle called as he ran towards the couple. "Stop! Look around you Lord!"

Lillian's face turned crimson "My lord, he lies! He is envious! I must tell you that before the ball he accosted me! He is quite mad!"

Jareth shook his head and stood "I…I trust Hoggle with my life. He would not lie to me…" Stepping back, he drew his hand from her embrace. As the last, lingering contact of her flesh vanished, so did the fuzziness that had plagued him all night. He glanced around him with dawning comprehension and anger. He had underestimated her, never thinking her glamour could great more than her looks. "You dare use glamour against the royal house?"

The woman standing in front of him hung her head; the banquet hall disappeared "Only for you Lord"

Hoggle watched as anger fought with pity on the Prince's face, anger won.

"This is the price you shall pay then. There is no magic that will obey you now…there is no court that shall accept you. So is my will."

Lillian felt her magic snap off inside her, broken, useless. Silent tears streamed down her face and wet the thin cloth of her shift.

Jareth turned his back to her and left the glade. Hoggle followed.

*   *   *   *   *

That's it for chapter 5!!!!!


	6. Chapter Six: Sarah

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, in any way shape or form other than owning the video…and the DVD…and the soundtrack…okay; I am an insane fanatic that is now butchering Labyrinth for my own ends…Bwahahahahahahahaahahahahahhaha!

**Beyond the Labyrinth**

**Blood to Blood**

          Sarah glanced out the living room window; Rivkah had not allowed her to move off the couch since she changed into her pretty new dress.  Sarah's hair was done in elaborate curls and pinned to the top of her head to fall in an artful cascade of dark froth that perfectly framed her young face and accented her sparkling green eyes. Her dress was done in shades of emerald and burgundy…silk and hand made lace, expensive and soft. Hence the reason she wasn't allowed outside in it. Sitting incongruously in Sarah's lap was her teddy bear Lancelot. His glass bead eyes reflected a rainbow of colors as the autumn leaves tumbled and cavorted outside the window.

          Sarah reached out a hand in true yearning, wishing that she could be outside dancing with the wind…but her mother had asked her to stay inside and be good…the prince was coming to see her, and to meet him, Sarah needed to be clean and pretty. She felt like a doll, sitting on the edge of the couch. It would have been easier if the curtains had been closed…but here the clear glass sat, clear as crystal and yet still a firm restraint, taunting her…

          The leaves were just at the right color to look like tossing flames. They skittered and flew down the street, playing in the wind until tomorrow when the street cleaners would sweep them away. The trees that had lost the leaves stood proud and tall, pleased that they were responsible for such a glorious display. The sky was the silver of a perfectly shined nickel, an excellent back drop for the flaming dance of the leaves. Sarah sighed and stared.  

*   *   *   *   *

          Rivkah flexed her fingers nervously as she sat in front of her vanity mirror…her prince had asked to come to her home…had asked to see her daughter…she was of mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it was another way she could please him and stay in favor. A way to keep access to the world of glitter and charm that existed in the mundane world if you knew the right people, her people.  On the other hand, little Sarah was somewhat of a disappointment. She did not have the looks she should; she was too large for her age, too tall, too interested in the outside rather than the proper things. She didn't like learning to dance properly, eating properly; social graces…none of them interested the vexing child. Not to mention that the blood of the coarse man she lived with flowed in the veins of the child. That blood is what she blamed for the child's unruliness. The most Rivkah had been able to do with the child was give her the heirlooms of her family…a ratty teddy bear and a children's book 

          Rivkah shuddered to contemplate the man she was married to. Life wasn't fair; she had left her clique for one night, _one night,_ of "lower" amusement…and ended up pregnant. Her honorable parents had demanded that she wed him post haste. In a moment of deplorable weakness, she had consented, married the man and whelped his little bitch of a child. _It's not fair!!! I deserve better, I deserve those I was raised among, those same people that now look down on me for bearing a mud-blood daughter…only my Prince understands; only he can help me back…_and that meant making sure Sarah was impressive. _ And she will be, that I swear, she got me cast out, and she'll be my ticket back in._ Rivkah leaned over the mirror, added the last bit of lipstick to her face, and smiled. Had anyone been in the room as she smiled, they would have recognized the grin of a true predator.

*   *   *   *   *

          Rivkah floated down the stairs like a cloud that could barely stand to touch the earth. She was all dark hair and black dress, silver lines and diamonds. She watched herself in the hall mirror and smiled once more, happy with the effects of such bold colors. She alighted at the bottom of the stairs and glanced around, making sure that every nuance of the entry way was perfect, that nothing was amiss. It was. For once Sarah must have listened and kept herself under control. _Well and good, it is about time she started to obey me…_She stopped in the entrance to the living room, prepared to scold Sarah if she had dared move from the couch.

          She stopped cold, surprised. Sarah hadn't budged; in fact she was staring, entranced, out the window. Despite herself, her gaze shifted to the outdoors, attempting to see what had captivated the girl so. Dead leaves blew down the cold street. Stark, black branches reached towards the sky in a silent plea for freedom from their binding roots. The slate grey sky loomed over the whole scene, leeching warmth and life from everything. She shivered and tore her gaze from the window. There was nothing out there to deserve such attention as Sarah was giving it. _Oh great, not only does she not behave but she sees things that are not there. How can I hide the fact that she is addle witted as well?_ She backed up a step and halted herself once again. She had caught her own reflection in the mirror in the living room…and in front of her reflection was that of Sarah…

          Rivkah studied the lines of her daughters face, she could find no fault with her daughter's face, no fault with her posture…and that was wrong. _Not even I could wear that dress and look so…perfect. She sits on the couch as if it was a throne, she should fidget, complain, do something, anything but sit there and look so…beautiful._ An irrational rage started to grow in Rivkah's heart. _HOW DARE SHE? How dare she be able to look like that? To look like we all wish we could? How we all try to look? She's not even full blood! She's not even worthy of meeting any of my friends and yet…and yet…she manages to outshine me. The little sow…_The mirror showed a beautiful child, lush colors complimenting her, her wondering eyes wide open and staring in fascination, a slight smile on her lips. Lips that did not need any make-up to glow. And behind this vision of life a shadow moved, a twisted being of black and silver, and eyes as dark as a nightmare.

*   *   *   *   *

          Sarah blinked and came out of her reverie, the glass still sat before her, but something was different. She turned her head minutely, careful of her hair. _Lancelot?_ Mild panic started to simmer in her gut_ Where has Lancelot gotten to?_ Gracefully she slid to the floor and glanced under the couch. "There you are! Bad teddy!"

*   *   *   *   *

          Rivkah was purposefully stalking towards the couch _How dare she, she isn't worthy_ kept sliding through her mind. She had her hands in front of her, fingers arched into claws. She was seeing wonderful, bleeding gashes in the "oh so perfect" flesh, green and purple bruises marring the cute smile…she ached to crush, to destroy this creature she had created. She reached the couch and was reaching for the slender expanse of throat when Sarah slid off the couch. Rivkah froze. There, standing at the window and scowling at her through the glass, was her prince. He had watched, and she got the distinct impression that he was not happy. He crooked one finger at her and she nodded. She walked to the door.

          The man at the window smiled gently at the girl picking herself up off the floor with a very familiar teddy, and then he went to the door. It was time to talk to Rivkah.

*   *   *   *   *

          Rivkah shivered and looked at the stone of the porch as her prince approached. He was angry; every line of his body stated the fact clearly. Yet even in anger, she desired him, his hair swung free, long and dark as good chocolate, to his waist. He was thin, but with muscle, a sculpted face, pointed chin, pale skin…even wearing jeans as he did now, he was beautiful. He was the utmost epitome of the blood. She decided to let him start the conversation. 

          He paused at the bottom step and looked up at the woman that had come very close to destroying his careful plans. He wanted to strike her, to reach out and throttle her as she so obviously had wished to do to the child. But he couldn't, not yet, no matter how she deserved it. She still had a purpose, but not here. _It is sad to think that some of the greatest power left in our blood is housed in this poor excuse for a person, there was never enough humanity in her to learn compassion, or love for that matter…it is unfortunate that little Sarah has such a mother, perhaps when I remove Rivkah from her life she will learn that mother does not mean Goddess. _He pasted a court smile to his face and looked at her with dazzling green eyes. "My lady Rivkah, it is obvious that this place is not for you. It seems to distress you. Would you care to leave here forever?" He waved a negligent hand at the house, taking in the mundane road and the drab colors "Such a jewel as you deserves a more exotic setting…" He stepped towards her and ran his hand up her arm "Come away…" He kissed her hand and whispered in her ear "Go pack"

          Rivkah ran up the stairs, joy in her face.

*   *   *   *   *

          He braced himself on the porch railing for a moment, swallowing back bile. _So easy to manipulate isn't it? When have you ever been honest? _He stood and walked into the house. He followed the sound of a child humming into the living room, and there she sat. The greatest hope for those of the blood left. _Such a small, innocent thing…I should have taken better care of you child…_He sat and looked at her, she glanced up and he was caught in eyes as green as his own. She smiled the precious smile of a child who does not have an easy life and yet knows how to enjoy life a moment at a time.         

          "Hello, are you the prince?"

          He chuckled, prince…that is what Rivkah called him because she did not know his name. Maybe, just maybe… "Yes, I'm your Mom's Prince, but you can call me…Telvris"

          "Hello! I'm Sarah, my mom…umm, I mean Rivkah said I had to be extra good while you were here"

          _She doesn't even let Sarah call her Mom?!!! _"You don't have to do that Sarah. I'm not very good so why should you be?"

          "Oh good! Does that mean I can go take off this dress and go play outside?"

          "Yes, yes it does…but first I have a gift for you." He pulled the small box out of his pocket. Inside was a locket, instead of photos, there was a silver filigree owl on one side and a sword crossing a rose on the other. "May you wear this when your blood calls to the blood of those who need your strength."

          She frowned at him and smiled, but put on the necklace, the locket sat inside the bodice of her dress.  She twirled in a circle and her face glowed. Gracefully she swooped in and landed a delicate kiss on his cheek. "Thank you very much Telvris. I'm going to go change now"

          He watched her scamper off, a strange feeling in his chest. Then he wiped the tender expression off his face and prepared to play the charade once more as Rivkah came down stairs with a suitcase in each hand. _Remember, you are doing this to protect Sarah, it does not matter how much you are degraded as long as she is safe and grows up strong._ He took the suitcases with a flourish and led Rivkah out the door. He glanced up the stairs once more, stroked the spot she had kissed, and then walked Sarah's goddess out the door. Rivkah never looked back.

*   *   *   *   *

Sorry about the length of this one, the story ran away from me! 


	7. Chapter Seven: Jareth

Disclaimer: Don't own Labyrinth, never will. And that hurts more than you will ever know…but on with the story.

**Beyond the Labyrinth**

**Brief Respite**

****

          Jareth reined his horse in as the sloping drive of his friend's manse came into view. The high slate walls grew, grey and foreboding, from the gentle slopes of the hills in this part of the country. Stark when set in the back drop of green and blue. No vines dared grow up the walls, no flowers kissed the base…it was slightly sinister. A slight smile played on his lips _all the better to scare you away with my dear…Who would ever guess that inside these walls was the most luxurious home of Lord Devin Shelltross, a man famous for his drink, debauchery, and parties; and one of Jareth's closest friends from the court._

          He rode decorously to the gate and the wide iron and oak panels opened without a sound…moving by some silent force that obligingly closed the gates behind him. Spread before him was the wild, almost jungle-like trees of the estate. Moss hung in great curtains from the age-darkened limbs, catching the mist that drifted between the trunks. Odd cries rang out in the gloom and then lights, thousands of small lights, began to twinkle and blink and swarm towards him. The will o' wisps swarmed and circled about him and his horse, dancing to some strange tune of their own. Then, as mysteriously as they had appeared, they winked out. This was going to be an amusing week.

          Finally Jareth reached the doors of the mansion. A silent gnome clothed in awful plaid livery came out and took his horse. The great doors swung open and he was assaulted with music. A band was playing full out and people were laughing. Scarlet gauze and glitter spun through the air. In the center of the center of the milling throng glittering, fluttering wings surrounded a man sitting on the floor. The wings were beautiful, like those of butterflies, extended and enlarged to human size and attached to female bodies. They could only be a congregation of Drelk, the winged folk of the fenns.  Suddenly the throng parted and there, sitting on a low pile of cushions and looking entirely pleased with himself, was Shelltross.

              The lord's dramatic gypsy mustache twitched and a smile crossed his features. "Ah! Well met Jareth! Well met! Did you enjoy the ride?"

          "It was quite pleasant Devin"

          "Phaugh, I never cared for riding myself. Too much jouncing and carrying on! And the stench...no, I much prefer to stay here with my lovely darlings and listening to wonderful music!"

          Jareth walked and forward and bonelessly collapsed on the cushions next to Lord Devin "And that is quite alright for you. I find that riding is the only way I can get any time away from the clinging arms of court life. And lately it has been much worse than when you left…"

          "Ah yes, I heard, the "get the prince married" campaign. How is that going? The last I heard there was that terrible business with the enchantress…"

          "More a glamouress…but in any case….it has been terrible. For a time folk were afraid to approach me for fear that I would strip them of their magic as I did her…but they have all recovered from that temporary terror. They are even more desperate rather than less. Any time my father so much as sniffles the women flock in droves…"

          "Ah, lovely women in droves… are not such a terrible fate I should think" Devin caressed the wings of the woman standing nearest him.

          Jareth watched the woman's face twitched as her wings were stroked, a small sigh escaped her ruby lips. Deep wine dark purple hair spilled around her feathery antennae frothed around her slim, lithesome figure and complemented her forest green skin…she was indeed a beautiful creature…_good for the bed and not much else though…there isn't a Drelk born that has enough brains to rule a country. He sighed resignedly. _

          "You like? You could have one…or two…or heck, the flock…"

          "No, thank you…can't have one of them making a bid for the throne."

          "Ah, none of my lovelies would do that. They are too well trained for that aren't you love?"

          The glittering beauty opened her eyes and smiled "Yes milord"

          "There? See? There is nothing wrong with a little recreation now is there?"

          "I said no thank you Devin"

          "Ah, show him the error of his ways loves" Then the fluttering women descended.

*   *   *   *   *

          Jareth's mind awoke. There was a slight breeze fanning his face and giggling nearby. It was odd. _Have I slept through one of the daughter presentations? He carefully cracked one eye open and looked…right into a pair of sapphire eyes. He closed his eyes again __Please no… he opened his eyes again. The face that matched the eyes grinned and kissed him "About time you woke up milord. Are we truly that boring?"_

          His mind wasn't working properly, he groaned and rolled over…and met another pretty face. He sat up and there was a third, and a fourth…the butterfly wings fanned the air and a whole group of women cavorted about him. Sun sparkled on their wings and glinted from their eyes. Then his mind woke up and made a very important realization…_My clothes are gone…then his mind was snared by the women who now floated above him…__oh my…theirs are too. He was lost again in soft hair, gentle skin, and sweet, sweet kisses._

*   *   *   *   *

          He awoke again, and he wasn't alone. At the foot of his bed sat Devin, grinning like an idiot. "DEVIN!!!! I recall telling you NO!"

          "Ah come off it Jareth. Life is about having fun…and you needed it very much. When you came here you looked like you hadn't had a decent nights sleep in years. And here, look, you've had five good, wholesome nights sleep here."

          "FIVE????!!!!!"

          "Now you can't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself"

          "…no, I can't" A grin wrapped itself around Jareth's head and he leaned indolently on his elbow "Did I mention your one of the best friends I've ever had?"

          "Oh now you thank me. Sometimes I don't know why I bother…"

          "Cause you'd be bored if you didn't"

          "Bored? Ha. I have lots of things to occupy my…attention."

          "I see. Then why bother?"

          "It amuses me to see the indignation on your face"

          "Ah"

          An aggrieved expression crossed Devin's face and he leaned forward as if to whisper "Next time could you be slightly more considerate?"

          "Huh?"

          "My girls are worn out…they are sleeping now, will be for awhile…" Devin pouted

          A strange feeling welled up in Jareth's throat. It bubbled up into his mouth and poured out in glorious, heart felt laughter. "I am _SO sorry Devin, I really am, but remember you volunteered me for this."_

          "Yes, I know. The stupid things I do for friends…"

*   *   *   *   *

          Nerillwyma smiled and fluttered her wings in joy. _New blood! She was carrying new blood home to the fenns. Strong blood…royal blood...her people would be so pleased._

*   *   *   *   *

And that's it for this chapter. Sorry this ones not al that great.


	8. Chapter Eight: Sarah

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, or any rights to it. Trust me, I feel the pain…

**Beyond the Labyrinth**

**Through the Mirror Cracked**

          It was such a beautiful day for the world to end…Birds were singing gay, happy songs…a light breeze was swaying the trees, the sun shone brilliantly…yes, a perfect day for the world to end. Rivkah was gone. She and the prince had left yesterday…just left…leaving Sarah all alone. Crystal tears flowed down her face. _What did I do to anger the prince? Why didn't he take me too? Lancelot gave a soggy, tear soaked squelch as she squeezed him tight to her chest. __Why did they leave me alone?_

          Daddy had come home at his usual time…while Sarah was still outside playing. She saw him walk in; it never occurred to her that Rivkah wasn't inside making dinner. He had walked back out in mere minutes, walking straight at her. Something in his face had paralyzed her, held her motionless… "Where is your mother?"

          "Isn't she cooking?"

          "No"

          "I don't know"

          "I see" Then he had walked back to the car and driven off. He hadn't come back home all night. After that, she had to prove to herself that Rivkah was gone. She had run up to her parent's bedroom and looked at the drawers and closet…_And nothing was there…no makeup, no jewelry, no fancy clothes…So here she sat, in the living room, crying._

*   *   *   *   *

          Her father came home…he smelled funny and couldn't walk straight. Sarah had long since stopped crying and simply watched him. He sat down heavily next to her and stroked her cheek "Sarah, tha neighbors say tha saw some bastird here yestirday…Did yah see him?"

          _He means the prince!!! I can't tell him… "No daddy, Momma sent me out to play while she cooked. She said I was in the way…"_

          He stopped stroking her cheek and pinched her shoulder tight "Liar, yar a bitch jes like yer mam!" He wrenched her arm around and smacked her hard across the face "Ya know whar they went, I know yah do! **Tell *smack* ****me *smack* ****you *smack* ****little *smack* ****whore! *crack*" At the sickening sound, he dropped her arm.**

          Sarah whimpered and drew away from him, clutching Lancelot in one arm, her other dangled at an odd angle while pain nearly made her puke. "I don't know daddy!" She fled, her feet flying up the stairs, doors flying open as she passed…she sought sanctuary in the one place she hoped he wouldn't check, her mothers room. She dived far under the bad and curled up tight, cradling her arm. _ I won't tell him, he's like an evil knight, he wants to hurt the prince and princess…I can't let that happen…I only have to hide until he's not mad anymore…Shock began to creep up on her, and she passed out._

*   *   *   *   *

          She awoke to the sound of breaking glass and swearing, her father was in the room. He was throwing her mother's belongings everywhere, shattering her glasswork, the windows, the mirrors…glass sprinkled to the carpet like sharp rain. He mind was enchanted by the glittering glass…as long as she concentrated on the glass, her arm didn't hurt so much…she concentrated so hard on the glass that she didn't hear her father leave once more.

          The glass sparkled and shimmered, and she almost saw a face…it looked worried as it peered out at her. The mouth, centered in a large shard, compressed into a thin hard line as the eyes, looking funny fanned among several small splinters, took in the bruised and bloody flesh, the broken arm. Sarah tried to remember where she had seen this face before, she knew the name, but her mind didn't want to work…then it came to her. She cracked her lips open to emit a bloody, burbling whisper "I didn't tell him prince Telvrin…you're safe, I promise." The eyes widened in shock, and then closed…the face disappeared. Sarah passed out once more.

*   *   *   *   *

          She awoke once more, it was night time and dark in the room, she could hear her father calling her "Sarah, please, I'm sorry…we need to get you to a hospital…please come out." Her body started to move while her mind was still wrapped in a gossamer cocoon. She crawled out from under the bed, dragging her arm and teddy…and walked across to the door. Then she felt the glass she had stepped on…bloody footprints trailed from the bed to the door. She was too drained to cry anymore…her body too abused to protest. She shrugged and kept walking, her mind was elsewhere…dancing with fairies and unicorns…she was safe, and warm…and wanted…

          She didn't know what her father told the doctors, but she awoke with bandages all over her arm, feet, and ribs, one tube was dripping blood into her arm, while another was forcing oxygen into her lungs. She turned her head and saw that some doctor or nurse had left Lancelot nearby with matching bandages. She didn't care…her father made promises; saying it would never happen again, he stayed near her bed and stroked her hair…it didn't matter. It had been such a beautiful day for the world to end…

*   *   *   *   *

          Telvrin blanked the mirror and leaned his forehead upon the cool glass, tears streamed down his face and silent sobs shook his proud frame. He felt a cool hand on his neck and turned to see the blind Prophet Nera "It is for the blood Telvrin, the prophecy demands it. It cannot be helped."

          Rage gripped his heart and the tears slowed their fall…leaving hot, burning tracks on his cheeks. "I know Nera, I know. But after she has come to power…I will kill the man who did that to my child. I swear on my blade and my magic that he will die at my hands. And no prophecy will stop me then."

          "Heard and witnessed my lord. I am sorry that the prophecy demands your daughter, and your son. I am truly sorry."

          "I know you cannot change what will be Nera, there is no point in me trying to take it out on you. But I tell you, if we ever meet; Fate will be as dead as that man is to be." There was a light tapping on his door.

          "The woman Rivkah seeks you my lord…"

          A bitter smile appeared on his face "Ah, yes, the mother of my daughter, and my soon to be son…how I hate her. Sometimes Nera, I wish you had never told me your visions…for they have cost me everything."

          "There will be brightness in your future; fate is rarely so cruel to a family without compensating."

          "Kind words from one who has not had to abandon her children to monsters. Think as you will Nera, it has been proven to me that I cannot even protect my own child. There is no reason for me to live aside from my future revenge…gods help anyone who tries to stop me." He stalked to the door and pasted his court face on, the slightly bored expression settling on his face with ease, masking the haunted eyes and tear stains. He walked out, closing the door behind him.

          Nera's blind gaze followed him as he left "I am sorry for your pain brother…but you cannot see that there is so much for you to live for…"

*   *   *   *   *

My, that was a bit dark, even for me…sorry if I scared you folks…


	9. Chapter Nine: Nerillwyma P1

Disclaimer: Standard, see previous chapters.

**Beyond the Labyrinth**

**Wings of Fate**

          The months passed, fall into winter, winter to spring. And when the fenns were blooming with small swamp flowers, and jeweled wings flashed in the new sun, a child was born…

A single crystal tear shimmered down the new mother's cheek and disappeared in the mist of the fenns that swirled among her wings. Against her breast rested a small child, blissfully nursing, completely unaware of the tragedy of his birth. Nerillwyma looked down out at her son and more tears followed. "No wings…what cruel god would deprive my son of his wings?" 

Her father draped an arm around her and squeezed her tightly "It is so with Fae royal blood…the form breeds true, and will always do so…so while he is the child of your body, he will never fly with us."

"He has no color…not even a tint of green or blue. Only his lovely eyes, unmatched like his fathers…oh father…he will never be happy here…"

"No, he will not be, though his soul belongs in the fenn…and I cannot allow him to stay. What if he bred? All his children will be born without wings…I cannot allow such cruelty to our people. Our wings are our freedom."

She nodded she had expected no less. "We are banished then?"  

He embraced her with his crimson wings, the great tigers eye pattern seemed to weep… "It need not necessarily be so…we of the fenn have no obligation to those outside…we could simply leave the child at a road crossing, or even at a doorstep…you could continue to dance among us…"

 Nerillwyma shook her head sadly. "No I will not punish him for my mistake. We were told not to conceive, not to hope…but I did. His malformation is my fault. I can't send him to suffer alone. 

  "Then it is decided…the people come before even you daughter. Though I shall miss your lavender beauty with all my heart…you and your son are banished from the fenn lands for as long as the child remains alive and wingless."

Her antennae curled in misery, she turned silently and disappeared into the mist. She walked, to heavy of heart and body to fly, to the borders of the fenn without even a backward glance. The faint scents of flowers, the light tinkle of her people's laughter, these she stored away. Hoping always to remember them…hoping always to return some day.

*   *   *   *   *

She started on the familiar road to Lord Shelltross's estate. It was her second home…perhaps, just perhaps he would feel pity for her and the child even though she had disobeyed him and conceived. He was at heart, a kind man.

Lost in these thoughts, she didn't hear the riders until they were nearly upon her…and by then it was too late to hide. Seven dark riders, upon blood bay mares, came to a snorting halt as they drew even with her. The leader dismounted and threw back his riding hood as he stalked towards her. A grin played upon his fair face, though his eyes remained in shadow. He parted his perfect lips to reveal slight, pointed teeth. A low hiss issued from his throat…

Nerillwyma's hand came up in a sign of warding "Shadow-touched…"

The man laughed a fleeting, mellow sound that brought to mind cool fall nights. Then the whispery chuckle modulated into a sound easily understood. He spoke "So little lost one, you know of us?"

"You are night haunts…tales…"

"Is that what we look like?" He held out his elegantly gloved hand and the hand that delicately stroked one of her antennae was disturbingly real "Tales often have some truth in them child…do you know why we are here?"

"The tales say you and your host ride out in search of those with some power…those lost…disowned…and embrace them."

"Yes lovely flower…we sensed that you need family. Would it be such a bad thing to come with us? We are strong, strong enough to easily protect you from everything. You could have anything…gardens in which to dance…friends with which to laugh…"

Her antennae trembled, and curled about his hand beseechingly "Why would you do such a thing? I am no one…"

"Ah, but you could be. Since the dawn of time, we of the shadows have taken in the unwanted…those we take in are safe forever. Not even the upstart Fae dare try to retrieve those that we have welcomed, for we are power far older than those that profess to rule this land…you are young, far to young to be out alone in this world…come with us…"

Her mind painted a picture of the promises that the dark man whispered…a family, a home that would never, ever abandon her…She parted her lips, prepared to accept…then the child stirred. What had appeared as a simple bundle of cloth soon wiggled around to reveal itself as a child. Surprised, the man drew back.  The slight smile on his face was replaced by almost a pained expression. The hand that had stroked her, reached down to gently cradle the boys cheek. "A child…"

"Yes, he is my son. He is not winged…"

"Ah, and that would be why you wander…more fools they." A tender expression crossed his face as he looked upon the child. Then he looked up with regret evident in every feature "We cannot bring children into the shadow lands…it must be a conscious choice, and they must know the full ramifications. You alone, we could have brought…we could have taught you, gifted you with shadow…but with a child…" A single tear gleamed crystalline on his cheek.

"My father offered me the same price…the child. And as I told him, he shall not suffer for my mistake." She hung her head in misery, and then she turned, prepared to head out onto the road once more. 

She felt a gentle hand upon her shoulder. The man turned her about to face him once more. "I never asked you to give up the child…if you had, I would have killed you on the spot. Our kind…cannot bear children. To see your loyalty touches us. We will grant you a gift, and a promise." He reached up to his throat and removed a necklace of black jade carved like a flame. "This is the gift. If and when your own road comes to an end, this shall be your key to us. When you feel your end approaching, you have but to beseech this amulet and the shadows shall embrace you, if you so choose. The dark is not for everyone, and the powers granted cannot be returned. And I, alone, give you this promise. Should you ever feel to alone, to overwhelmed by the road you have chosen…whisper Silvermane to the shadows and I shall be there…to talk, to listen…" He clasped the necklace about her throat, and it fell within the bounds of her shirt, to sit, dark and warm, upon her breast. He kissed her once, on the forehead, and then bent to kiss the child. Then he remounted and rode off, the others followed after giving her respectful nods.

She sat in the middle of the road for a moment, bewildered…shocked; to have had night haunts, nay, the stuff of modern nightmares, show compassion. It seemed that even the ancient dark had a heart, and a soul. Heartened, she nursed the child, and continued her journey.

*   *   *   *   *

Her delicate feet soon grew cut and sore, her wings bedraggled. The mewling child seemed to demand her every moment, and she grew thinner…both from exhaustion and misery. The journey had never seemed so long when she flew…the fall rains came, and still she walked on, unnoticing of her chill…her illness…her fever…

 Her mind seemed locked in a fog in which nothing was real except the child, and sometimes a glimmer here or there…

Every moment she expected to unswaddle her son and see that it had all been a dream, that he did indeed have wings. Glorious wings of gold and silver, that threw the sun in rainbows of color. Or perhaps to feel a warm cloth on her head and wake up in the fenns…but no such miracle happened. 

Her mind gradually gathered it's scattered thoughts and disjointed perceptions. She awoke, thankfully, her clothes clammy from her fever. She was curled on a dark cloak, the child was nestled nearby. By her hand was a water flask and a basket of fruit. Her mouth tasted bitter…obviously some draught had been forced down her throat in her delirium. She looked about for her patron, the one she must thank. No one was there.

Then she spotted it…a dark flame carved into the tree above her head.

*   *   *   *   *

She had wandered greatly in her delirium. She had not stayed to the roads she knew, the roads that led to Shelltross and possible shelter. Instead she found herself in the deep rolling foothills of the fang mountain range, a brook burbling happily, a hands width from where she lay. Beside her, her son had unwound himself from his blanket and was cooing happily, his shock of white hair curling in the breeze. There were still no wings upon his back…and now, exhausted from her illness… he seemed foreign to her.

          His pale body writhed, entirely earth bound, and clutched at the wind he felt should be his…his struggles elicited a pang of self pity…she could let the breeze take her…just ride away…leave him here, none would know…just her and the breeze. She would ride it forever, just drift away like a dandelion puff…never settling, never stopping…instead, she stood and gathered the gifts that had been left. Slinging her son onto her back, nestled between her wings, she set off. Not to seek out Shelltross, or anyone…but to find a place in which to live out the coming winter. 

*   *   *   *   *

I apologize once more…I just wasn't happy with the last chapter, so here it is, revised a bit. Hope you liked it!


	10. Chapter Ten: Nerillwyma P2

Disclaimer: Yadda yadda yadda….and Yoda. Yoda just rocks. Truth told, he does…I know this is a shameless plug in a Labby fic…but it's YODA!!!

Note to readers: Some may recognize some of the content here…I rewrote a chapter, separating it into two and adding quite a lot. If you have not read the first part, please do so, or you may be lost.

**Sheltering Wings**

          The mountains were a strange yet breathtaking place…she wandered, the child happily on her back, and often gaped in wonder. There were trees so tall that they captured clouds in their lower branches. A rough, uphill climb through dark, damp trees often ended in a golden, sun-touched, perfectly flat meadow. And at the end of these meadows were sheer cliffs…the stones of which were weathered and worn, making them appear less menacing than their razor sharp reality…

          Her feet, still bare, soon grew tough and leathery. Her hands acquired several small, white scars from scrambling up the rocky precipices. Her once flowing hair soon became snarled beyond repair; and when it began to snag on stray bushes, she simply cut it. Now her verdant green locks swung only to her shoulders…all the better to play with seemed to be the child's opinion on this change. 

          Today's sun…rising through the bitter fog that blanketed this particular cliff, found the pair sitting…or rather perching, on the very edge of one of the meadows. The vista below was breathtaking. The land visible was not of the country she knew…they must have crossed a border sometime in the night. Winter was almost upon them…and still they had no shelter. Then she heard a faint howl… Turning she was confronted with a horrendous sight…a pack of wolves. They were not hunting her, no, their attention was for a large deer, but the whole group was headed towards the edge…and her.

          Her first instinct was to jump from the ledge…spread her wings…but she caught herself. She couldn't fly with the added weight of the child. After a few more moments of thought, she had run out of time. The stag was backing towards her, rearing at the leading wolves. She could smell the musk of the stag's fur, the dank, tangy smell of sweat…then the stag was upon her. There was no where left to go but down.

          She heard the child laugh as the wind rushed past them. The pure, joyous sound filled her with purpose. She snapped her wings to their fullest, attempting not to fly, but to glide, to slow…In some respect, she was successful. She felt the muscles in her back wrenching in agonizing directions, her left wing crumpled from the pressure of the tearing wind. She began to swing to the left, and then to spin…luck brought her to a ledge some fifty feet from where she started. Then she heard the impact of the great stag, a few feet from where they had safely landed.

*   *   *   *   *

          When her breathing had slowed, and their survival had sunken into her stunned mind, she stood. The child was burbling happily to himself, she had taken the brunt of their landing on her arms and knees. _Thank the sky gods we survived…more or less intact…her left arm and wing both hung limply, useless. But otherwise they were hale and whole. Where fortune had brought them seemed to be small slice of fortune. It was a ledge, roughly a hundred feet across. Deep, rich meadow grass flourished in this little place. A single tree, still bearing some late fall apples, had managed to take root at the base of the parent cliff. And there, set in the very center of the vertical wall of rock, was a cave. She couldn't help it…she laughed; laughed until she cried. And then, cradling her arm, her wing dragging, she explored this little haven._

*   *   *   *   *

          Upon closer inspection, the cave was an oddity. The entrance was perfectly smooth. She ran her fingers along the edge to make sure, and encountered a symbol, weather worn, carved into the rock above the door. It was a flame of dark stone. She stepped inside and the chill that was the sign of coming winter was gone. There were three little alcoves carved in the wall, perfect for beds. A scorched area around a little rock shelf showed where fires had been lit before…and the shelf itself obviously used as a stove. In the very back, a trickle of water, a hands width wide and cold as ice, ran down the wall, to pool in a deep basin until the overflow was carried out another crevice.

          _Safe…Her mind whispered. She clumsily untied the child from her back with her good hand, nursed him, and then created a nest in one of the alcoves for him to sleep in. He curled, cherubic, and blissfully unaware of their brush with death, in the makeshift bed and slept. Occasionally small noises and bubbles emitted from his slack mouth, amusing her as she watched the sun set from the cave mouth. Shadows gradually gathered in the cave, and when they seemed the darkest, she spoke… "This was a place of your people once…was it not Silvermane?"_

          Her words shivered in the air, the shadows rippled and then, keeping his word, he was there. "Yes, once, so long ago that not even we remember…"

          "I think we shall stay here…"

          "That is wise. It is…primitive, but some slight enchantments still work…ones of warding and warmth…this is a safe place. How was the journey here?"

          She grimaced, and turned so he could see her arm and wing "rough. It was only luck that we made it here…we fell off a cliff with a stag…the stag wasn't so lucky…"

          "Was the child hurt?"

          Her grimace turned to a true smile "No…it was a grand adventure for him."

          "Ah, I believe he is untouched because you took damage to yourself rather than see him harmed…" his hand reached out from the shadows to lie lightly on her good arm "That is a mark of true nobility. Now if you would allow me to bind up your arm…it is awkward to do alone with one hand…"  

          She smiled "I am glad for your offer. It seems each time we meet you are doctoring me…"

          He shrugged; busy tearing strips from his own tunic "It bothers me not. It is a service for an admirable woman and it is an investment in the future." The last was said as he gestured at the child's sleeping form.

          She winced as he deftly set her arm, only biting her lip kept her from screaming and waking the child. When she had caught her breathe, she continued conversation with this odd man "Ah yes. Is it a curse that you kind cannot have children?"  

          He regarded her with shadowed eyes, his long, grey hair stirred in a slight breeze. He watched her like this for some time…long enough for the sun to completely disappear. Then he seemed to make up his mind, "It is not a curse…it is more a choice. Our kind once reproduced in two ways…by bringing in outcasts…and by the traditional ways of breeding…then there was born a set of twins. They wielded great power from the start, but since they were children they had not learned the lessons of control, sacrifice, even pain that we now require. These two managed to harness the very energies of the land in which they were born…it was terrible. They were power mad…none of us could control what they did. The very land was rent; the people changed…then came a new people. They sailed in great ships from the east. Two heroes among these new, fair race stepped forward to save the land and the people…we of the shadow met with these two who traveled to our city. We agreed to several things…if these two could kill the twins, and save the remnants of this once fair land, their people could live here, rule…and we would withdraw to the shadows…would not interfere. These two strange heroes managed to kill the twins, the powers they harnessed filtered into the victors…hence the reason that the "ruling" family has such great power over the land and people. It turned out that our own children had caused us to be outcast from our land, broke our rule, our influence…that is why we do not breed. We cannot risk such powers again." The story came to an end as he tightened the last knot that held her wing to her back until it could heal the torn muscle. "So needless to say, children are precious to us, but only those that have grown wise can be brought into our realm…"

          "I am sorry for you and your people…a prior bad experience should not limit an entire race so…"

          He gave a dry chuckle and stepped away from her "Perhaps not, but better safe than sorry. Do you wish anything else?"

          "Actually yes…help with one last thing. Fresh meat fell with us. I can work a knife one handed, but carrying it all…" She widened her eyes beseechingly and smiled, half joking.

          He laughed, long and loud, and then followed her out onto the ledge.

*   *   *   *   *

          The winter passed comfortably, the child grew into an industrial toddler, and her arm finally healed. She soon noticed that the magic of the cave must be leeching into her, because her wings began to darken into shades of velvet black and amber brown. Her skin was even darkening into a deep, dusky lilac, while her hair gradually went to silver grey.

Silvermane visited as often as she invited him, and he seemed amused, even pleased with these changes. The child had learned his name and would demand him in loud, ringing tones "Shivarmain!" She would simply smile and comply.

          He was there when the snows melted and they ledge was sprouting green. The two adults simply watched, amused, as the child ran gleefully to the tree that was now sprouting new buds. "Silvermane, my friend, I have a very large favor to ask…"

          He faced her, listening…

          "It is tradition among my kind that a child receives a name after their first solo flight…but my son will never fly. I cannot name him…will you?"

          He sat quietly, as was his trademark, thinking. "I…I am deeply touched…it is an honor. He should have a strong name as I do not believe his life will be easy…"

          Nerillwyma called her son over and gently cradled him. "I have told you of the fenns, my son. I have told you what little I know of the world. Now comes something you must always remember…"

          "Yes, always remember this day. Your name is Brellan, for a great hero of old that once saved this land."

          She set the now named child at her feet and Brellan looked up with complete understanding in his eyes. He opened his baby mouth and quite clearly said "Brewen!" Then he toddled off. A single tear trailed down Nerillwyma's cheek as she turned to Silvermane "Thank you"

          He bowed his head to her, and together they watched the child play.

*   *   *   *   *

          Another year passed in their quiet sanctuary. Nerillwyma Had taken to hunting to replenish their stores. It happened one day that she found a ragged woman cornered by a bear. Swift skill brought the bear down, and compassion caused her to invite the strange woman to her home. 

          Brellan was reluctant to approach the stranger, and this caused Nerillwyma herself to be cautious, withdrawn. The woman though, showed nothing but gratitude for her rescue, and turned out to be an herb woman that had simply gotten lost in the mountains. Her knowledge brought new flavors to their meals, and gradually, Nerillwyma thawed towards her. She still did not call Silverman to meet the newcomer though…

*   *   *   *   *

The new woman watched the child at every opportunity. She knew those looks, the mismatched eyes, the white hair. Yes, she knew them well. Had held their twin in her arms…had danced…had felt her power and her heart break…the memory stilled plagued her. But surely it was providence that she had been outcast so? Had been forced to wander as she was shunned from each village she came too… For here was her ticket back, her revenge, and her future, all rolled into one young, malleable package. All that stopped her now was the mother…the winged demon that guarded him with all her heart and soul…

A small smile played on her lips. How fortunate that she was versed in herbs. How fortunate indeed.

*   *   *   *   *

Nerillwyma writhed in fever dreams, her blood burning through her veins. She twisted and moaned, vaguely aware of the woman watching her, and her son gripping her hand in his little fist. Her awareness clouded over, and yet strangely, her perceptions broadened…it was almost as if…nothing were real, then Brellan leaned over her, and she smiled.

 "Do not worried, beloved son"   She raised her hand to caress his hair one last time, and felt two small, delicate, feathery nubs, her only legacy to him. Joy suffused her, and she found the strength to call out one last time "Silvermane…I would say goodbye to you…please…"

The pendant on her breast flared with a dark fire and surrounded her body in a strange nimbus as Silverman stepped from the shadows at her call.

*   *   *   *   *

Lillian shrieked as a man stepped from the shadows on the other side of Nerillwyma's body. His eyes where hidden in shadow and his lips were twisted in a grimace of pain as he reached down to Nerillwyma's oddly glowing body. Then he looked directly at Lillian and growled "Get out stranger. Give us privacy…"

Lillian fled.

*   *   *   *   *

Silvermane bent over Nerillwyma and held her hand gently. "You called me noble lady?"

"I feel so strange Silvermane…Am I dead?"

"No. Remember my gift to you? You must now make a choice…"

"What of Brellan?!"

"We shall never abandon him. No matter your choice, I will always look after him…and watch, from the shadows."

"Then let me see Brellan…" Silvermane boosted the child into her line of view "remember this well son…I am not dying. I am going with Silvermane for a little while…I will come back, we will come back. Be strong until then, remember us until then…until then, go…go out into the world with the woman Lillian. Learn. Go now…" Showing the strange understanding that he had on his name day, Brellan toddled out the door, leaving Nerillwyma and Silvermane alone.

"You have decided then?"

"Yes…I accept your gift."

"It seems so small, my gift to you…you gave me a far greater one…"

"Oh? As I recall, you adopted us from the start. What have I ever given you?"

"A son"

"…yes. And we will be back for him. Perhaps it is time for the shadows to end their exile…"

"I believe we just might, if we follow your faith dear one…we just might…"

When Brellan and Lillian next looked in the cave, the couple was gone.

*   *   *   *   *

Lillian smiled _perfect. It was all so simple, she never even realized that I seasoned her last meal with Dragonberry…the little fool. Now I have the child, the heir apparent, only issue of Jareth. It was so easy to gain their trust. I will be great again…and the child will see to it. She cradled a sniffling Brellan against her ample bosom __But first things first… "Your name is now Jareth, little one. You are named for your father." Brellan shivered._

*   *   *   *   *

Okay, better. I am happy with it now. I will actually write a new chapter soon. Sorry for the delay.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Sarah

Disclaimer: Yes, I include a personalized disclaimer in every chapter! It's just my little way of saying I care about not getting sued…

**Pheonix**

          Sarah stood nervously before the store mirror and smoothed her annoying skirt. She hated it. She hated the whole outfit…but it was a requirement for attendance at her new school. It would have been more bearable if the jumper skirt and shirt weren't made out of cheap wool dyed a horrid green plaid…or at least if it didn't itch so…her fretting earned her a green smeared hand as the dye leeched into her sweaty palms.

          What a wonderful way to start at a new school; especially a private school. She tried to unobtrusively wipe her hands on anything nearby, but it was no use…she was as green palmed as a forest sprite. She leaned forward to stick her tongue out at the mirror _a seven year old forest sprite trapped here…she giggled at her reflection. That noise snared her father's attention. He started to bang loudly on the dressing room door, as if maybe he was a policeman and she escaping criminal. It wouldn't be far from the truth._

          Demurely, she opened the door and stood with her eyes lowered to her clasped hands. Her father's shoes poked into her line of view and circled her, right to left, for a full minute. She held her breath and watched the purple spots begin to appear around the edges of her vision…

          After a moment, the circling stopped and her father spoke to her "Alright, it will do for my little baby. She looks like a little lady in that…"

          The sales clerk poked her shiny black high heels into view and said in a saccharine voice "Oh yes sir! I can have it boxed up for you the moment the young miss steps out of it!"

          "Very good. Sarah, honey…go change out of that. You'll be wearing it again soon enough…sarah?"

          Sarah didn't hear him. She was still holding her breath. The purple spots had started dancing forming strange symbols that she thought she knew…intent on studying them, she neglected to breathe. The purple grew to a dark maroon and began to encompass her whole sight. She watched, bedazzled as they spun into one long line, waving and curling into strange, made up words :  **Secroma**** lon megris, vira secromas… Then the purple was shot through with emerald sparks and the writing disappeared in a fireworks display as her head hit the floor.**

*   *   *   *   *

          She woke up in the hospital, Lancelot tucked next to her cheek. She recognized the room, she had been here often. The nurse named Louise smiled at her and went to get her father. He walked in, full of false concern, red cheeked and blustering about an allergic reaction to the dyes in the skirt. After the first sentence, Sarah tuned him out, focusing on the amber depths of Lancelot's glass eyes. After a time, his speech grew softer and then she started to listen again.

           "…anyway, they say you'll be fine for you first day of school tomorrow. You'll like Gina's school…she raises the best."

          _But daddy…I want to go to the school at the corner, the one with the trees…That remark had gotten her slapped and the comment "So you can be just like your slut mother?!" So she kept her peace and stopped arguing, and now he expected her to be excited. She pasted a smile to her face and turned towards him "I can't wait"_

*   *   *   *   *

          Father dropped her off at the front gate and promised to pick her up after her lessons. She watched him drive off then hitched Lancelot firmly under her arm. The gates themselves were imposing, more suited for a prison than a school. Their black iron bars sent a chill down her spine and even the sound as the wind rustled through them was that of despair. 

          She didn't know why she was afraid, but the minute she stepped into the courtyard, the sun seemed cold rather than warm. The grey gravel stones crunched loudly under her feet, and then suddenly shifted under her. She fell and scraped her knees painfully. Blood oozed through her white tights and down her legs. Whimpering she tried to see what rock had turned, but all she saw was pale granite, with bits of micah.  

The gravel drive seemed a river that hid it's malice beneath a façade of respectability. The sun chose that moment to conquer it's cowardice and creeped from behind a cloud and sent a chill beam o ligt to the little child. The micah blazed in a cold fire for a moment, reminding her strongly of glass shards…mirrors…butthen the sun hid and all that remained was a little girl, sitting on a drive way and swiftly getting tardy.

*   *   *   *   *

After a moment of strengthening her resolve, she braced herself, and rose to her feet. Then, showing no sign of pain, she stepped through the front door of the school. The entranceway was deserted, every student in their class. So she walked softly down the hall to the place that the principal had interviewed her father. She knocked timidly on the door and stepped in. A severe woman was seated behind an immense desk. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she sneered down her long nose at the mongrel that dared to bleed on her rug.

"May I help you?"

"Yes. My name is Sarah, this is my first day…"

"Ah yes. Well, you are late for your first class and I cannot allow you to disturb your classmates. You will remain in the outer hall until you see the classes change."

Sarah nodded politely and left, to shiver in the cold marble hallway. After a few moments, she pulled her teddy into her lap and started to whisper. "I heard father talking to the principal…she said that every girl who comes here becomes an…impec…impor…impeachable person who knows her duties. That made father happy. I wonder why she runs a school when she doesn't like kids….it doesn't make sense…" There was a metallic clink and a line of girls, all dressed in the awful plaid, filed out of a nearby room. The woman leading them took one look at Sarah, sniffed, and kept walking. The girls did the same.

Shrugging to herself, Sarah followed. They were led into another room, full of straight backed chairs of cold, hard wood. There, another spinster lectured them on posture. Since the other girls were taller, and had taken the front seats, Sarah managed to avoid notice for sometime, but her luck didn't hold.

The woman swooped down upon her like some giant bat shrieking "And proper ladies do not cling to toys such as that ragged thing." Her claw like hands tried to steal Lancelot.

Sarah opened her mouth wordlessly and refused to let go. The teddy sat securely in her lap as the other girls guffawed behind politely raised hands. She felt her ears burn. The teacher ordered her out to the principal. Clutching Lancelot tightly, she obeyed.

*   *   *   *   *

The principal was not happy to see her again so soon. She tapped her long, poisonous green nails on the desk and glared at her. "Mrs. Felps tells me that you refused to listen to her."

She nodded mutely.

"Why is that?"

"She…she wanted to take Lancelot away…"

"Ah the doll thing you have there…"

"Yes ma'am." 

"Well, hand it over."

Again, Sarah refused. The principal sighed and walked around the desk until she stood in front the quivering child. "It was not an option. You will give me that…toy."

Sarah tried to back away, the great, green nails reached down to caress her face, her throat. Then, in a viperish blur, Sarah was backhanded, her head whipping around, followed by her body, to the floor. Lancelot tumbled from her arms and rolled haphazardly across the floor to land in a disgraceful heap. A swift kick to her stomach made her curl up and moan as the principal picked up Lancelot. Then the cold gaze was once more upon Sarah. "Here children learn to obey. You will no longer need this. Get up! Follow me…"

          The principal, who Sarah was swiftly beginning to believe was a witch, marched through several halls, then a flight of stairs that went down. Then they were in a long, dank room full of shadows. At the end was a large, fire belching monster of pipes and grates. Into this, the witch tossed Lancelot…Sarah screamed, long and loud as his furry hide began to smolder then flame. Then the words were before her eyes again, and she fainted.

*   *   *   *   *

After that day, Sarah went to school and sat, silent as a statue in every class. She never bickered or spoke out of turn, and yet the teachers always found a reason to fault her. She had quite a collection of bruises by the end of a week, after a month, she was glad that she was wearing a coat to hide the cuts and welts. Her father was thrilled at the change in her…Sarah had never hated a place more.

*   *   *   *   *

Telvris clenched his fists in impotent fury upon hearing the story his friend, Vree, formerly called Lancelot in another form, told him. "Such a place as you describe would kill the spirit of anyone…her "father" couldn't do it himself so he sent her off to someone who could…this must be remedied. And Vree, my dear friend, you must go back to her. A power such as her cannot be left unguarded…"

Vree inclined his head "Yes, I know…but she saw my other form burn…"

"You are her only friend…she will not question your apparent survival and return…"

"Perhaps. But she is a bright one…takes after her father in that regard…"

Telvris pulled the young fae lord into a tight embrace "What over her for me Vree, watch over her…"

"I will my lord, I will."

*   *   *   *   *

Sarah awoke on a bleary Monday morning and prepared to change into her school…no, prison, uniform. She drew the garments slowly over the livid injuries with a hissing breath. Then she sat before her dressing table to brush her hair. The brush fell from her numb fingers as she saw what was perched on her table as if she had carelessly placed him there herself…Lancelot sat on his side, watching her with his dancing eyes. She clutched him, and for the first time in a month, cried.

When she was dry-eyed once more, she heard her father enter. He seemed to be anxious about something. "Sarah, honey…you won't be going to school today…it's seems there was an accident…a gas main blew…everyone that they've pulled out of the wreckage is dead…thank god that we were off to a late start…" Her father hugged her then left to go to work.

Sarah looked down at Lancelot's twinkling eyes with a puzzled frown. "Lancelot…the school didn't have gas. They had a furnace and heating pipes…" For a moment, fire and carnage was reflected in Lancelot's glass eyes, then Sarah smiled and hugged him close.

*   *   *   *   *


	12. Chapter Twelve: Jareth

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth. I never have, never will…I just exercise my right to artistic license; at every available opportunity.

**Mortality**

          Lightening flashed from a perfectly clear sky, startling the birds from their trees. It also startled Jareth, who was sitting in one of the several hastily vacated trees, avoiding the fripperies of court ladies. The wind began to pick up slightly, and the leaves shook in some arcane pattern, the branches creaking and moaning some horrid dirge. Next the ground itself seemed to ripple, as if it was some great beast twitching it's fur.

          He managed to keep his tentative seat on the branches, until total darkness descended. It was frightening and disorienting, and he slipped. It wasn't far to the dancing ground, but it was a frightening experience none the less…to fall in complete blindness, anticipating impact but not seeing it approach…he tensed his shoulders and curled into a small ball, prepared to hit the ground. Then the light returned…a pulsing, feeble glow approximating the sun, but light. And the ground arched to meet him. 

          Under normal circumstances, he would have hit the stone bench he had used to scale the formidable tree…but instead he fell several yards from the solid fixture, into the ornamental pond. He was not amused. But then again, he doubted anyone was amused at the lands rebellion. One thought ran through his head as he attempted to climb away from the swelling soil "What has father done?"

*   *   *   *   *

          Hoggle was having a very bad day. It had started with his lordship the prince disappearing. He had completely shirked every single one of his court duties…and Hoggle was convinced that Jareth had done it just to make his personal life harder. He was currently surrounded several voluminous skirts of varying shades as women flocked about him. Now this wasn't usually unpleasant, as he did like the ladies, but all they wanted to hear about was Jareth's plans, Jareth's time, Jareth this-horse-spit-that. 

          He was telling the Lady Volima, for the twentieth time, that his Lordship Jareth did not desire company at the present moment "and no he has not mentioned when he would" when the very floor started to shake. Just lightly at first, but then it shimmied like a drum skin. 

          The ladies in their fine silk footwear started to slide. And as they slid, they shrieked, horrible wailing cries like banshees of old. And they also grabbed at the closest object…with death grips. Hogle, being a stolid gnome had braced himself at the first quiver, as anyone of any intelligence would…but he hadn't reckoned on being clutched…in sensitive, nay delicate areas.

          So when the floor bucked enough to shift the whole fluttering group, his own undignified yelps were added to the blood curdling mix. But, he was lucky, as the entire hall stood on end and slid them all into the wall, he was padded by skirts…and the ladies weren't so lucky as they weren't wearing skirts on their heads; and being proper, delicate creatures…the fainted on impact, causing them to release a very ruffled gnome.

          So here he found himself, in a pile of ivory limbs and soft flesh…skirts fluttering here and there…all the greatest of women's beauty spread before his eyes…and what did he do? He heartily wished to be out of the whole cloying, perfumed, unconscious mess.

          Unfortunately, several women were pinning his body to those that had landed on the bottom. He couldn't move. So he sighed and wiggled as best he could until his head was well cushion on the bosom of the woman beneath him, and waited for the rescue teams.

*   *   *   *   *

          Jareth had caught the timing of the land swells and was soon wending his way to the palace. A heavy dread settled in pit of his stomach at what he would find. Never had the land behaved so…unfocused. It was as if it couldn't decide what it desired to be, and the land desire was the king desire…which meant his father was in trouble.

          Eventually the kitchen gardens came into view, and strangely, they weren't moving. Each and every row of vegetables was completely unaffected by chaos around them. It was as calming as it was surprising. He landed at the edge after sliding down a particularly large swell and the flat, even land caused his knees to buckle. He found himself staring at particularly succulent looking tomato; he contemplated it until he could safely stand.

          He bent to brush dirt of his knees and saw a pair of very worn, very muddy boots directly ahead of him. The boots were attached to in the normal way to a very large mane, far taller than normal. The man's impressive stature was topped by a thick mop of flaming red hair that straggled into his slightly vacant brown eyes. The man, obviously a gardener, was leaning on his hoe and looking at the prince with some amusement. "Yah ought to tell the pleasure gardens tah behave better. Tsk tsk, such shenanigans shouldn't be allowed. Nope, shouldn't be. But my vegetable garden here, it sets a better example."

          Jareth looked at the gardener with some surprise; the palace right beyond the plot was jumping and melting as much as the land behind him. Only here was it stable "Master gardener sir…"

          "Name's Ludo. Ludo Marse."

          "Master Ludo…how did you get this land to stay still? It is obvious something is wrong with the king…all the land should be riotous."

          The mans shaggy eyebrows swooped down towards his nose in a worried gesture "Wrong with the King? What could be wrong with 'em? As fer the land, I was just thinking it was havin a bit of fun. Can't have that here, this is a workin garden. I'll let it have fun when the crops in. Hmph, King's ill…don't believe it. What's a sprat like you know about the king?"

          Jareth fixed the man with his piercing, mismatched stare, and sniffed. "I am Jareth, son of his Majesty Ketrillin the Third."

          "Oh? Really now? And what would you be doin here then?"

          "Trying to get into the castle."

          "Ah, I see. I reckon you can use the kitchen door…if you're a thief, the guards will just kill you…if you're the prince, I guess they won't. I've got work to do." The large man bent and gently cradling small seedlings in his massive hands, transferring them to small pots. 

          Jareth shook his head and headed for the plain wooden door into the castle kitchens. "What an odd man…"

*   *   *   *   *

          Hoggle watched as the small portion of ceiling he could see swirled and melted like some arcane painting. Then his erstwhile cushion started to flutter her eyelids. She started to squirm and look at him reproachfully. "Get off me!"

          Hoggle grinned in a toothy manner and shrugged, settling his head between her quivering breasts "Can't. I'm stuck same as you."

          "Why you filthy little…taking advantage of such a horrendous situation…"

          "Just taking whatever the circumstances deal me, ma'am." He ran a hand down the side of her gown where he estimated her thigh would be in the fabric monstrosity "This is taking advantage!"

          She squealed and choked for a moment as her face turned red "When my father hears of this…"

          Hoggle looked her straight in the eye and sighed "He'll probably laugh his buttons off. All I'm doing is laying here. You're the one panicking." To emphasize his point, he crossed his arms across his chest and stared at the ceiling again, which had turned a fascinating shade of puce.

          The lady had other plans; she started to wail, bawling her eyes out and wiggling most uncomfortably. Hoggle was shaken out of his ceiling observation as she twisted her chest out from under him. Annoyed, he reached up and smacked her head into the wall again. It had the same effect as the first time…he had a comfortable pillow once more.

*   *   *   *   *

          The halls were a nightmare, most of them no longer led anywhere…much less to the throne room. Plus they kept turning about on themselves like demented snakes. Jareth watched in horror as the last mile of corridor he had traversed rushed past him, and settled itself sideways. "It is obvious father has lost control…I need to get to him…" He braced himself for the rush of magic he would require and placed his hand on the currently still wall. Then he spoke, in whispers of the old tongue, to the wall. Coaxing, cajoling, promising…a door slowly formed, covered in ornate beaten gold. The door to the throne room.

          He stepped inside with a weary sigh and let the magic trickle away. Inside, the court that usually attended his father sat in a frozen tableau. Each and every one of the magistrates, priests, guests and assorted court dandies were exquisitely carved statues…except two. His father slouched over the throne…and his godfather Larec, who was trying to help the king.

          At his entrance, Larec looked up with haunted eyes. "My lord Jareth…"

          "What has happened?"

          "Poison, my lord. Someone poisoned his wine cup. Help me save him…"

          Jareth nodded and stepped towards the throne, his hands alight with golden power that was echoed about Larec's spread fingers, healing magic that would save the king. They hoped. 

*   *    *   *   *

          Fighting the poison was like fighting a pitched battle during winter…in the rain, and starving. It was insidious and exhausting…but eventually the palace stopped quivering, and the king opened his eyes to the healing embrace of his son and his brother. He felt old, so old, and realized that he now lived on borrowed time. But time enough to tell the pair later. They were exhausted, and he was the king. He had work to do.

*   *   *   *   *

          Hoggle felt one last shift as the hall gently settled back into it's former position, spilling the ladies and himself like so many flower petals off the wall. He stood and brushed himself off, eager to be away before any of the ladies awoke. He looked down at his recent pillow and smirked. Then he bent at the waist and laid a kiss upon her lips.

          She stirred and sighed, her eyes fluttered open "My prince…?" her eyes widened in shock as she took in his weathered, gnomish features. This time, she fainted of her own accord.

          Hoggle laughed to himself as he headed to the throne room, knowing the center of the problem…and therefore his prince would be there "So much for the sleeping beauty stories…"

*   *   *   *   *

Sorry for the delay in updating folks, but it's been a bit hectic here. Hope you enjoyed it anyway.


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